Green With Possibilities
by WordNerdingFTW
Summary: The city's safe and Oliver's opening his mind to new possibilities. Something changed the night he told Felicity he loved her. The words were a trap meant for Slade, but Felicity called him on it later. She'd wondered if it was true, and now that Oliver can hang up his hood for five minutes...he wonders too. ::: AKA: Musings while I wait for Season 3: From Oliver's POV


Oliver adjusted the tiny security screen at his replacement lair. The backup location was one of his better decisions, especially considering he'd be otherwise homeless. Right on time, Felicity's little car bounced through the deserted lot and into a space harboring minimal trash. The driver's side door swung wide and a pair of red heels and bare, sculpted legs stretched into view. Oliver swiveled in the little office chair and crossed the room in long, eager strides. He pressed heavy palms to the window sill, leaning close to the glass and seeking her face. She beeped her doors locked and turned her chin up. Bright blue eyes searched window to window until they found his. She'd caught him watching her arrive days ago and she'd looked for him every day since. He shook his head as she disappeared from sight and went to meet her at the stairs. Adrenaline highs were supposed to come from facing off with bad guys and late night parkour, not at the sight of a tiny blonde carrying coffee.

Maybe he really liked coffee?

Oliver opened the door prematurely and leaned his hip against it, holding it for her.

Felicity climbed the stair with overt caution and her button nose wrinkled into a knot. Her rapt attention wholly focused on the cardboard coffee carrier clutched in a white knuckled grip. "Listen to me," she whispered. "No spilling. You have no idea what it's like to climb three flights of stairs in four inch heels."

"Felicity?"

Her face snapped up. She pulled in a quick breath and his heart stuttered.

"Need any help?"

"Uh uhn." She cleared her throat. "No. I'm. I was just. Fine. And talking to…how long have you been standing there?"

He stretched toward her as she crested the final step and relieved her of the tray. "I'll take that."

"Thanks." She pushed her signature glasses higher on the bridge of her nose and hustled through the doorway, apparently unaware of the effect she had on him.

His eyes trailed shamelessly over the close fit of her dress, particularly appreciating the slide of silk against her thighs. He shut the door and his eyes in one mind-clearing motion. The sound of falling material popped both eyes wide. His cheek ticked at the realization she'd dropped her coat, not her dress. Of course not her dress. Why her dress?

"Are you okay?" She sashayed toward him on careful feet.

"Mmm hmm. Yeah. Yes. I'm well. Thank you." He lifted the tray between them, hoping for casual, while scolding himself for the direction his mind had gone. Ridiculous. People. That's who started this. People like Diggle suggesting he hadn't had a problem with Felicity's performance until Barry Allen came along. Making him question whether that was true. People like Isabella who all but declared he was sleeping with Felicity. Planting the interesting image in his previously focused mind. In fact, she was the one who pointed out Felicity's short skirts. Not that he hadn't noticed before, but since then he hadn't seemed to _stop_ noticing. And after the trap they'd set for Slade. After telling her he loved her…

"Oliver?" Felicity stood inches away.

He lowered his chin for a clear look at her beautifully sincere face. "What?"

She cocked a brow. "You look a little murderous. Everything okay?"

"Fine." He forced a tight smile. "This is my favorite part of the day, actually."

"Mine, too." She curled narrow fingers around one paper cup, pinching red nails against the coffee shop logo and releasing it from the tray Oliver had nearly forgotten he held.

"Yeah?"

"Oh my goodness, yes." She turned for the desk, leaving Oliver at the door. "Coffee time is my favorite part of any day. Well, that and wine time." She raised her cup in the air before setting it beside the keyboard. "Not that I drink a lot of wine. I mean, I do, but I don't like how that sounds." She glanced over her shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. "I'm not a lush or anything." She dropped her chin to her chest and turned to face the computer.

Oliver moved to her side, a silent chuckle rumbling in his chest. "I didn't think you were."

She shook her head without looking at him again. The length of her ponytail grazed the back of her neck and ivory skin of her shoulders. His fingers twitched to rest there, test the boundaries. Would she reject his touch? A friendly shoulder squeeze or two?

He set the carrier on the desk and pulled a cup to his lips before he did something stupid. Impulsive. "Talked to Diggle today?"

"I'll give him a call. You should sit. There's something definitely going on with you."

"Yeah." He pressed his backside to the desk. Definitely something. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was a side effect to saving the city, but impossible things seemed possible again. Normal things, like uninterrupted dates and having a glass of wine with a friend.

The possibility crashed through him like a grenade.

Why couldn't he? What was stopping him now, really? Excuses popped into mind at a rapid fire pace. _Slade wasn't the only bad guy out there. Her safety was more important than his curiosity. If things went sour, their working relationship would be damaged._ Oliver pressed his lips together, holding back the question he realized had been on his tongue for months.

But maybe it was time to take some chances. Take different kinds of risks.

He put his coffee on the desk beside hers. "Felicity?"

She wiggled her phone between them. "Diggle's just pulling into the lot. Traffic."

He hadn't noticed her make the call. No matter. "Felicity?"

Her pleasant expression faltered. "Yeah?" She looked at the doorway and back to Oliver.

"I was wondering." _I was wondering?_ That wasn't how anyone should ask Felicity out. His gaze swept over the dingy lair. First dates were important, right? How he asked and what they did would set the precedence for their relationship. Assuming she said yes. _Oh, hell._ She could say no. He blinked. If she said no, what would that do to their working relationship? Would she be uncomfortable? He would. It wouldn't stop him from looking for another opportunity to earn her yes, but she shouldn't be made uncomfortable. Not by him. Not ever.

One of Felicity's warm finger caught him between his eyebrows. He grasped her slender wrist in his fingers on instinct and she started. "You're frowning again."

He lowered their hands, without releasing her. "And you thought you'd poke me in the head?"

Her eyes widened. "You get that thinking face and all these wrinkles."

"You think I have wrinkles?"

She relaxed her shoulders and her smile returned, small but steady. "You are pushing thirty."

"Ouch." He turned her wrist in his hands, examining her tiny palm and soft, scar free skin. "You aren't too far behind me, you know. Twenty-six, is it?" His hand was large enough to envelop hers. Large enough to cover the span of her narrow waist.

"Hey." She flicked her wrist free and pointed at Oliver. "One. I don't want to talk about it and two, you will always be older than me. So, I win. I will always be the younger woman." Her contagious smile fell. "Not that I'm _your_ woman." She flailed her hands in the air around her head. "Gah."

His stifled a cough. She wouldn't elaborate. She'd gotten much better at self-editing lately. Unfortunately.

Felicity huffed a defeated breath and spun full circle in the chair, crossing an uncrossing her legs, shifting the damnable fabric higher on her thigh. "So, what were you wondering? A minute ago you said you were wondering. You didn't finish."

This was it. Adrenaline soared through his limbs and the excuses fell away. It didn't matter where they were when he asked her. They didn't need pretenses. They were already friends. Best friends. And they would always be friends. No matter what happened between them.

Oliver leaned toward her, capturing her full attention. The smile on her face became cautious and something else. Hopeful?

Footfalls thundered up the metal staircase outside the lair door. He'd missed it. His opportunity had passed while he teetered on the cusp of action. "Dammit."

Felicity's mouth fell open.

Diggle slipped through the door and stopped short. "Did I walk in on something?"

Oliver held Felicity's gaze, silently apologizing for the sudden swear. She must think he was losing his mind. He turned his attention to Diggle. "I was just wondering when you'd be here. Your coffee's getting cold."

Felicity's lips slowly closed. She didn't speak.

Oliver hoisted himself away from the desk, casting one more look at a stunned Felicity before delivering the third cup of coffee to Diggle. "Welcome back, man." He clapped him on the back. "We were just discussing how much wine Felicity drinks and how old I am."

Diggle laughed. He lifted the cup to his lips. "So this is our new gig? Chatting about wine over coffee? Because I can get behind this."

"Looks like."

"Well, then. Cheers." Diggle laughed.

"Cheers." Oliver and Felicity raised their cups. Her gaze warmed his cheek.

"To good friends." Oliver tapped his cup to Diggle's and turned to Felicity. "And new possibilities."


End file.
